Like Sunlight Under the Skin
by Drowned-dreamer
Summary: She's on the run from the people who imprisoned her for her abilities. He's the one hired to bring her in. However, she might be the only one who can help heal him. Psychic powers!Emma/Assassin!Killian. For CS AU Week.


**A/N- So this is my contribution for CS AU week. I spent the weekend marathoning Stranger Things and it reminded me a little of Kyle XY, so basically this is what happened. Rated M for mild smuttiness and major angst.**

 **Unbetaed so all mistakes are mine. Love to hear what you think!**

* * *

The first time she sees the sun, she is 24 years old. Though her eyes sting and skin warms uncomfortably, she thinks she has never seen anything more beautiful.

…..

The first time she tries a grilled cheese, she is being tisked at by a grey-haired old lady who watches her from behind a pair of half-moon spectacles with a face full of concern. She burns her mouth on the first bite, and on the second, but the food smells so heavily and tastes so wonderful on her tongue she can't bring herself to stop. When her plate is empty, the lady shakes her head and plops another full plate in front of her.

The lady asks her where she came from, what happened to her, if she's in some sort of trouble, but she doesn't answer. It isn't safe.

….

She can remember the first time she defied her teachers, a man named Gold and a woman named Cora. She had been 10 and she was so exhausted from another round of lessons, that when it came time for her to practice the next one instead of being allowed to return to her room, she dug in her heels and shook her head. Gold had sneered and Cora had slapped her across the face, but she had only stared them both down until the metal table next to her began to shake and then crashed into the wall on the opposite side of the room, cracking the concrete walls.

After that, they never tried to reprimand her directly again. No. They found much more creative ways to ensure her compliance.

But she was clever, and the lessons she was learning were more illuminating than they could have predicted. At 14, they had her trying to pick up radio waves remotely, and as a consequence, the world she thought she had known was forever changed.

Some nights, when they had shut her up in her room and left her to stare at the cold, bare walls, she would send her mind out and pick up the waves, learning more and more about the world outside her cage. Television waves were her favorite, because she could not only hear but see the world she had never been a part of. That was when she started making her first plans to escape.

It would take another 10 years for her to find a way past Gold and Cora and the guards that were always surrounding her. It hadn't been easy, but she had been holding back the true extent of her powers for years and when she turned it on full-force, she had been unstoppable.

Once free from the facility, however, she quickly realized she had no idea what to do next.

She had stuck to the woods, hiding from Gold and Cora's guards in the trees for days until hunger and exhaustion had driven her to the small little Maine town of with the sign out front proclaiming it to be called 'Storybrooke.'

Granny (that was what the old lady was called) had found her digging through the trash at the back as she was closing up and had promptly brought her in, fed her, housed her, and did her best to take care of her without asking anything in return.

She had never had anyone care for her like that, and she had no idea what to do about it.

Instead, she repaid Granny by doing small chores around the diner, washing the dishes, making some of the food and the like. Granny seemed to know that she didn't want her presence to be known around town and let her stay in the back during the day.

Sometimes, though, when she could tell it was safe, when her mind and her senses told her the bad people were far away, she would wander around town, trying to experience the world from which she had so long been excluded. Just trying to feel normal.

She liked the water the best. The way it lapped up on the shore, roiling and bubbling, like it was speaking a language all its own. It helped quite the voices and visions in her head when they started to get too loud.

And somehow, though she wasn't aware, she began to live.

…..

The first time he saw her, she was staring up at him from a black and white photo. Though her blonde hair was cropped short and her skin pale, he could see the sharp intelligence in her eyes along with the natural beauty she possessed. He also saw the sadness in her eyes, something that called to his own, but that he quickly pushed aside.

"Find her. Bring her back," the woman, Cora, commanded. "Unharmed," she added, as if it weren't already obvious to him that she was important to them somehow. He had a feeling it wasn't his sharpshooting skills they had brought him in for.

Though capturing one unarmed girl didn't seem like that big of a deal, he didn't ask why no one else has yet been able to accomplish this task. He knows there is more that they aren't telling him. He's heard enough rumors of the type of work that goes on at Mills/Stiltskin Laboratories to have a fair idea why she might be important to his bosses. In the end it doesn't matter. He's paid to do a job and he'll do it. He'll find her and bring her back.

…

She's sitting at her favorite place by the docks when something tingles along her skin. It's a sense she hasn't felt in a long time, one which usually proceeds some sort of major change for her. She can't read the future (much to the ire of her teachers) but sometimes she gets glimpses or feelings when something big is about to happen. She runs all the way back to Granny's and spends the night curled up under her blankets, staring out into the void trying to solidify the vague feelings in her mind into a solid picture, but all she can ever see is a pair of blue eyes framed by dark lashes.

…..

It takes him weeks to track her, but eventually he has a solid lead. A drug store video surveillance picks her up in a small town maybe 50 miles from the government research facility she had escaped from. Honestly, the town is so small and quaint, he was surprised they had any sort of video monitoring at all. That's probably why the first and second searches for the girl have been unsuccessful. She's been good at staying off the radar. Until now.

He's going to have to play this carefully, a town like that will notice a stranger walking around and there's a very good chance she could flee before he even gets close. He'll need a convincing cover story and he'll need to guard all his thoughts and actions, especially if she's as good a psychic as he thinks she is.

He might not believe in psychic powers, but he's learned to cover every angle anyway. It's one of the reasons why he's the best assassin out there, and apparently why he was hired to bring her in.

…

"Excuse me, miss?" She hears a voice calling her over from the quay. There's a man on a small boat, rope in hand looking a bit befuddled.

She looks up at him and tilts her head. He seems familiar in a way, but silhouetted by the fading sunlight, she can't tell anything more than that.

"Can you grab the other end and tie me off?" He asks, making to throw the rope before she's even agreed to help. Startled, the rope hits her and she frowns up at the man, who gives her an apologetic smile before scratching behind his ear. "Sorry, love. Didn't mean to catch you off guard."

She shakes her head in frustration and moves to tie the rope around the pylon, like she's seen the other sailors do. Her hands make quick work of it and before she knows it, the ship is anchored and the man in question is leaping over to the side of his ship to the dock right next to her.

"Thank you, love. Sorry again about the rope." His voice is soft and his accent unfamiliar to her ears, but not unpleasant.

She nods curtly and hugs her arms around her body, doing her best to skirt around him on the narrow dock. She really should be getting back to the diner.

"Hey, wait a minute," he shouts after her, and she can hear his footfall as it pounds down the wooden planks. There's a warm hand on her shoulder and she quickly shirks him off, turning to fix him with a glare, but then her eyes meet his and her breath catches. Blue. All she can see is blue eyes. The very ones that have been haunting her dreams for weeks.

He seems to take her silence as anger and he quickly apologizes again, telling her about how he is on his way up to Canada to do some sight-seeing and how he is looking for a good place to eat in town, maybe somewhere to stay. Granny's is the only answer to both of those questions, but all his words feel false and suddenly, she doesn't want to be anywhere near him, dreams be damned.

Without warning, she turns and runs.

"Bloody hell," Killian curses, watching her lithe form disappearing up the road. He doesn't chase her, though he could, but he already knows where she's been staying, and her terror doesn't seem to be because she knows who he really is. No, there was another reason, he's sure of it. He could see it in her eyes. She didn't buy his story, but he had expected that, but what he hadn't expected was the weird jolt he had felt when he touched her. Like an electric shock through his skin. Or the way he had felt it again a moment later when their eyes connected. Was it just a manifestation of her psychic powers that caused it? Or something else.

He had to admit, he was bloody curious.

…

"Hey there, love. Fancy seeing you again," he says with an easy smile over burger and fries. She seems startled to see him sitting at the booth of the diner, though really, she shouldn't be. He had told he was looking for food and lodging. The same thought seems to occur to her at the same time and some of the uneasiness disappears from her eyes.

He smiles bigger.

"Name's Killian, by the way. Don't think I mentioned it earlier."

She shakes her head, but focuses on the wiping the counter, still not replying to him. He finds himself enchanted by the determination and strength he can see in her. He watches as a long strand of blond hair falls loose from her braid and sways with each swipe of her rag. She's too beautiful by half, he thinks absently.

Suddenly, there is a looming shadow coming between them.

"She doesn't talk," the old lady says, watching him with unguarded dislike, arms crossed over her chest and in full protective mode. "So you might as well keep your conversation to yourself."

Despite all his years in the field, he doesn't think he's met anyone quite as intimidating as this old lady. He can't help but chuckle. "Sorry, lass. I meant nothing by it. I simply ran into this young lady earlier today at the docks and was wanting to thank her for her help." He peers around the lady to see the woman in question trying to hide what he thinks might actually be a smile.

It shouldn't make his heart constrict, but it does. His own smile falters a little at that. He has a job to do, he reminds himself fiercely.

"Well, then, eat your food, say your piece, and be on your way," the old lady demands, turning aside and giving a telling nod to the blonde.

Once the grey-haired lady has gone back to waiting on the other tables, he turns to the woman and leans forward, "I don't think she cares much for me, love. Don't know why, I'm quite the dashing fellow when you get to know me."

The woman's cheeks flush a little as her smile grows. He returns it and goes back to eating his burger and watching her perform her duties. His mind is a whirl. He knows he should keep his thoughts more hidden, but whatever spell she seems to be casting on his has him feeling more off kilter than he has since he was a young lad at the Academy. He should just wrap this whole thing up now, call in the troops, drug her and bring her back, anything to finish his assignment. But he doesn't.

He tells himself it's because she's dangerous and he needs to know more about her, but deep down, he knows that's a lie.

….

He spends the next two months orbiting around her, trying to not look as obvious as he feels as he tries to puzzle her out. For some reason, the more time he spends in her presence, the harder and harder it is to remember why he is here. In fact, the more time he spends in this quaint little town, back out on the boat that used to belong to his brother (the one he had dug out of storage after years spent ignoring it and all the memories associated with it), the more he starts to wonder what he's really doing here after all.

The job was over ages ago, all he had to do is place a call, get his paycheck, and go back to his old, lonely life. But he didn't. And he doesn't want to. These days, he finds himself wanting something he never thought he would. But this is not a life he can have, and she is not a woman he can be with. He's a killer, a bad person, and she is nothing like him. She's light where he is dark. She's good where he is bad. They could never be.

She catches him off guard one night. He's on the deck, watching the stars, wrestling with the demons of his past, when he hears a soft scuffle coming from the dock below. He rolls over, looking down from the rail in time to see her sitting down at the edge of the dock, slipping her shoes off, and kicking her feet in the August-warm water of the bay. Before he can stop himself, he's over the side of his boat, barefoot as well, and sitting next to her. She doesn't shy away, but refuses to look at him, and they sit there for a long while, silent except for the swish of their feet through the water.

Strangely, it might be the most peaceful he has felt since his brother passed.

"You miss him, don't you?" She says suddenly, her voice breathy and rough from disuse.

A shiver of shock races down his spine, either from the delicate sound of her voice or from the fact that she could tell what he was thinking, he's not entirely sure.

"Aye, I do," he concedes, wondering what it was that made her break her silence.

She tilts her head, looking at him from the corner of her eye. "What was it like to have a brother?"

He has no idea how to answer that question. "It was—" he begins, faltering as he is washed with memories. His brother had been his entire world, but how could he possibly put that in words. Instead, he sighs deeply and looks down at the ring on his finger, the one that had been given to Liam when he became a captain in the Navy.

"I'm sorry," she says suddenly, placing her hand over his own. "I shouldn't have said anything."

It dawns on him then that the only reason she asked was because she had never known what it was like to have a family. Though his heart aches with his losses, it is nothing compared to what she must have felt. "No, don't apologize love. It's alright."

"No, it's not. I can't feel the pain you still carry, and I know it's not. I didn't mean to cause you more."

"You didn't," he tells her. She's still trying to comfort him, even though he should be the one doing that for her. More importantly, if she could read his thoughts about his brother, what else is she seeing up there? "Why are you talking to me now? Granny said you never talk."

"I don't want her to get hurt," she replies with a shrug.

"How would she get hurt?"

"The less she knows about me the better," she confesses, watching the little waves and eddies her toes make as she drags them through the water.

He swallows, taking a breath before asking, "And me?"

"You're different," is all she tells him.

"How am I different?"

She looks him in the eyes then, her feet stilling and his own body going stiff. "You already know who I am."

He blinks, shocked at her admission. Suddenly, the guilt that had been plaguing him since he met her rises up. "I'm not so sure about that, love." She's up then, so fast he barely has time to register it. "Wait. Please."

She shakes her head, but doesn't run, and he stands quickly to join her. "I should have left when you arrived," she is muttering softly, like to herself. "I don't know why I didn't. You're here to take me back to them. I can't go back." She darts away from his hands, up the dock and back to Granny's.

This time, though, he doubts she'll stay. This time, he thinks, she'll run for real. He sprints after her. "Wait! Hold on. I'm not…."

He finally catches up to her just as she's about to enter the back of the diner. He grabs her arms, spinning her around and the fear he sees in her eyes takes him back for a moment. She's terrified he's there to harm her, and in the moment he knows he can't do it.

"Killian, what are you doing here?"

He shakes his head, voice breaking as the truth pours out of him. "I don't know. I really don't have a bloody clue."

"Are you going to take me back?" She gazes up at him, the green in her eyes so dark in the moonlight, it looks like they are twin emeralds. He doesn't think he's ever seen a more beautiful sight.

"No," he states, feeling more sure of that then of anything else in his life.

She pulls away from his arm gently, and immediately he feels cold. "It doesn't matter. They'll just send others."

"I know, love. And you're right, you should run. If I could find you, so could they." It kills him to admit it, but the thought of her being harmed or taken back to that place where she'd be treated like a lab rat or worse turns his stomach.

"Where?" She asks.

"Where do you want to go?"

She clutches her own arms and shrugs. "I like it here. Granny's nice. The town is nice. I like the water."

"Aye, me too." He admits, pausing as a thought occurs to him. Maybe there was a chance for her to have a life after all. If they thought she was dead, or thought she was far away, that she had escaped him, maybe they would stop looking for her here. It'll be rough, convincing them, and he doubts Cora and Gold will take his failure well. Still, though, she'd be safe. "I could go back, distract them, lead them in a different direction."

"No!" She states with more feeling than he was expecting and his heart stirs at what that might mean. Could she have come to care about him the same way he has her? Was it possible she could look past his sins and forgive him for his part in this? "They'll know. You'll be in danger."

With a newfound determination, he is starting to think that there isn't much that he wouldn't do for her. "I don't care, love. Let me help you. Let me do this for you."

She turns, tilts her head up at him, suddenly shy and uncertain. "Killian? Maybe you could…. Would you come with me?"

He is speechless, unable to comprehend what he is hearing. "Lass? You…you would trust me to do that? After knowing why I came to find you?"

"Yes."

With that one word, his whole world tips and is thrown off for a new course. He surges forward, capturing her lips with his own. Electricity blooms between them and he can feel it racing down his spine all the way to his toes. He thinks he hears streetlights shattering, but is too absorbed in trying to read her reaction to worry about it. At first, she is still, tense, but then she quickly warms to him, mimicking his movements. One hand goes to her hair, the other is on her waist pulling her closer. Her hand runs up the back of his neck as she presses her lips against his harder and with more fervor. He moans and dips his tongue into her mouth. He can feel her gasp but then she settles and tries the movement for herself. He loses track of time, but breathing becomes a problem and he's forced to let her go, but not before trailing little kisses across her nose and cheeks.

When he pulls back, he can see her eyes are still closed, her mouth still stuck in a pout and he wants nothing more than to dive right back in. But she opens her eyes and smiles at him tentatively and it's the uncertainty written over her face that has him leaning his forehead against hers and returning her smile.

"It would be an honor to follow you wherever you wish to go, darling," he replies breathlessly.

Her smile grows more certain. "Good."

His grin turns to a smirk. "You know, I don't even know what to call you. I don't think calling you 'girly' like Granny does is appropriate, somehow."

Even in the moonlight, he can see the blush tinging her cheeks as she dips her head and says, "I like 'love'."

"You do, eh?" He taunts, catching her chin with his finger and pulling her gaze back to him. "It's not really a proper name, though. What did they call you before?"

Her eyes darken with the memory and he hates that he brought it up, hates the fear he sees in her eyes. Absently she runs a finger over the small tattoo on the inside of her wrist. He peers down, looking at the marks branded from her captors into her skin:

 **M/S-1.**

"Em-ess one," he repeats, sounding out the letters slowly. "Emmass-one." He turns it around on his tongue until a name emerges. "Emma Swan!" He exclaims giddily.

Her brow creases at his obvious excitement. "Em-ma Swan?"

"Aye, love. I think it suits you beautifully." He runs his fingers over his cheeks and down into her soft, silky hair.

Her cheeks go even redder, but she flutters her eyes and repeats the name. "Emma Swan, I like it," she says and he feels a little thrill go through him.

Gesturing his hand to the world at large, he smirks again and asks, "Well, then, Swan, where to?"

…

The first time they make love, it's spring, and the weather has just begun to shift from winter storms into something warmer and more calm. They are docked somewhere along the South Carolina coastline, somewhere wild and untouched. It's the first time either of them have felt safe in months, having learned from his sources just how displeased Gold and Cora were with how he had failed them. They are sparing no expense to locate them both, but for now, her remote viewing tells her that they still ignorant as to where they are. It's a quiet moment, and Killian and Emma intend to take full advantage while they can.

Killian has never been happier, even with the constant shadow hanging over them. He loves being with her and showing her the world. He loves the way her face lights up when she tries a new food, or the way she takes in a new place with wide eyes and soft smiles. He loves the way she can read his thoughts and emotions, even though it should scare him. He loves the gentle sway of her body in the moonlight as he dances her about on the deck. Loves the way her hair falls down her back, the little dimples in her cheeks and chin, the freckles on her chest that multiply in the sunlight. But most of all, he loves her kindness, despite having seen the absolute worst humanity had to offer for 24 years of her life.

She's happy, too. She talks more and more, telling him about her past, her fears, and her dreams of the future. She loves the way he curls around her at night, protecting her even in his sleep. She loves the way his eyes match the sky and the way they light up when she smiles at him. She loves the way he is so patient with her, letting her figure things out for herself and never demanding more than she is willing to give. Loves the way he smells of leather and the alcohol he likes to drink from his flask, loves the way his eyebrows dance when he is amused by her, loves his black leather jacket and his tight jeans. But most of all, she loves the way he looks at her, like he has never seen anything more wonderful in all the world.

That's why, on this night, she decides she's ready for more. They've shared kisses, intense ones that steal her breath away and leave her shaking and her head spinning in a good way. They've shared intimate touching, and seeing each other naked, and have spent every night wrapped in each other's arms. But they've not shared the physical connection between lovers that she knows he wants. She wants it too, though, because she knows she's in love with him, and she's ready for more between them. So she tells him as much.

At first, he is stunned, studying her carefully to see if she is telling the truth, but he must see the determination in her eyes, because he softens immediately before scooping her up in his arms and carrying him below deck of his boat.

"I love you, too," he tells her. He undresses her slowly, peeling back the layers of her soft sweaters and tight leggings until she is bare before him. He drinks in the sight and she can feel the intensity of his love for her through her extra senses and it only makes her want him more. She practically tackles him, trying to get him equally as bare, and he chuckles at her attempt.

"Easy there, Swan. We've got all night."

"Don't care," she mumbles. "Need to feel you."

He plants a tender kiss to her forehead before helping her remove the rest of his clothing. "You are so bloody beautiful, Emma."

"You're beautiful, too."

He hitches an eyebrow at that. "I believe you mean that you find me dashing, love."

"No, you're beautiful. Here," she says, bending her head down to plant a kiss on his chest, right above his heart. "I can see it. I can feel it."

He shudders at that, wasting no time gathering her in his arms and leading her to his bed. He slips the blankets over them to ward off the night chill, but knows they won't need them for long. She wriggling under him, trying to feel all of his body at once and he stills her wandering hand.

"Emma, love. Let me show you how much you mean to me."

She looks up at him, her green eyes wide open and darkened with lust. Her life, her future is in his hands and he wonders again what he ever did to deserve her.

"Okay," she answers.

"Just relax and let yourself feel," he mumbles into his skin, kissing her hard and with all the love he feels.

"I trust you, Killian," she pants.

It nearly shatters him, her trust, and he vows to himself to never give her cause to doubt him. He begins to work his way down, kissing her skin under her neck, down her chest, stopping to suck on each of her breasts in turn until she begins squirming again and he grins against her skin. He whispers reassurances into her body and resumes his path down, until he's nuzzled between her legs, his nose over her sex and she's completely still above him waiting for his next move.

He looks up, locking eyes with her, watching the curiosity play across her face. He grins and then bends down, licking a swipe up through her soaking wet folds. It tastes like honey and cream and he can't stop himself from diving back in from more. She moans and keens with every touch, her thighs quivering beside him. Suddenly, she's there, skyrocketing towards the edge. He can feel the bed shaking from her energy, but he's too focused on her pleasure to care. And then, she tenses and as she falls with her name shouted from her lips, the whole boat rocks heavily like it had been hit by a giant wave.

"Liked that, eh?" He smirks, cocking his brow at her.

She's panting and breathing hard, and all she can do is nod, so he'll take it as a good sign. He begins to kiss his way back up her and she pulls him up so that she can kiss him back. "More," she moans.

This will be her first time, and as he lines himself up, he pushes in slow trying not to hurt her. She's so wet and ready though, he easily slips in, and with a hard push, he's through her barrier and crying out for him again. He does his best to soothe her, nuzzling at her jaw the way he knows she likes and slowly rocking his hips to keep the friction steady. It doesn't take long for her to start to get back into it though, wrapping her legs around his body and whispering to him about how good it feels.

"More," she says again and he's helpless to disobey.

"Emma, oh god, you feel amazing," he cries, pushing deeply inside her tight heat until he thinks he might break apart at the seams.

"Kilian?" She asks suddenly and he immediately halts his movements, even though it takes a supreme effort to do so.

"What is it, my love?"

"Does it always feel like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like I can see the universe being born behind my eyes, like I can feel the sun inside my skin?"

Locking eyes with her, he thinks he can almost feel what she is describing. Suns and stars being born between them. It must be her abilities and not for the first time, he finds himself in awe of her. He doesn't deserve her, deserve this, but he'll fight to his last breath to protect it.

"I don't know, darling. But I will promise you that I will always try."

She smiles at him, and it reminds him of the first rays of dawn, when the sun first shoots out from the horizon and lights up the world. "Okay."

"Okay?"

She nods emphatically, shifting her hips under him and forcing him to move once again. "More, please," she begs and he follows where she leads.

He moans, lost in the feeling of their bodies coming together. "Oh, Emma, my love. You'll be my undoing one of these days."

….

She's 28 when her past finally catches up to her. Despite sticking to small towns, and moving constantly, Gold and Cora have managed to track down Killian's boat, their home for the last four years. For a long time, they had thought they had outwitted them, that they might be safe, and without realizing it, they've gotten sloppy. One mistake was all it took for them to find her.

Unfortunately, it couldn't have come at a worse time. It's not just her and Killian's lives at stake anymore. She's pregnant, due any day, and that makes the threat of being taken back all that more dangerous. She knows, without a doubt, that Cora and Gold will take her baby. He'll grow up just like she did, a lab rat in a cage, a weapon for them to use on their enemies without his consent or knowledge, a specimen to be studied.

They should run, but it's too big a risk, and something inside her senses that this was a battle a long time coming. Truthfully, she's tired of running, tired of always looking over her shoulder and she knows Killian is too. It's time to end this.

Despite her visions, they are not prepared when Gold and Cora attack on their way back to the small, secluded cabin they had been fixing up for the baby. In addition to more soldiers than she had foreseen, Gold and Cora also employ one of their most powerful weapons-Cora's own daughter, Regina. Emma remembers Regina from her lessons. Cora's daughter was malicious and cruel, never flinching from the directives she was given even when they were meant to hurt people. At the time, Emma had actually been jealous of her. Regina got to go home with her mother, back to her family, while Emma was left all alone.

Now, though, she knows the type of love Cora would have provided was the furthest thing from family. She knows what family means. Family is Killian and the baby. Family is never giving up, never leaving, fighting for what they want together. Every day, Emma is so thankful Killian came into her life. However, that doesn't mean Regina should be dismissed. She's a real threat and one that Emma doubts she can beat, but for the sake of her love and her child, she knows she has to try.

It's been far too long since Emma used her powers and Regina gets in several blows before her instincts come back to her and she feels the power inside her well up. Soldiers are sent flying, car and vehicles explode around them and somewhere on the periphery, she can sense Killian going after Gold and Cora.

She has never felt more afraid in her life.

Killian takes out a troop of soldiers with his guns, ducking behind a tossed truck as a barrage of fire whizzes overhead. Emma and Regina are still in the center of the fray going at it, but Emma is holding her own, her lips sent in a tight line of grim determination. Ahead, he can see Gold and Cora directing their soldiers to surround his love and capture her, and he knows it's up to him to bring them down.

He has never felt more afraid in his life.

After a long, hard fight, Emma finally brings Regina down, knocking her out and throwing her through the air. Her crumpled body soars over the soldiers that are forming a tight ring around Emma and she doesn't know if she has the energy to finish this fight. She can sense Killian lining up his shots, feels him as he pulls the trigger and the bullet rips through the woman's side. But her attention is drawn back to the approaching soldiers and she loses herself in the new battle. Though there are dozens of them, she somehow finds the last bit of strength necessary to knock them out and incapacitate them. She's exhausted, bruised and battered, but still alive and free.

And then, a pain like she has never felt tears through her chest.

"Killian!" She screams, the trees bending back with the force of her anguish.

Before her, Gold has her love on the ground, towering above him, the sharp metal of a long, thin rapier piercing through Killian's chest.

"Ah, ah, ah, dearie," Gold calls as she stalks toward him, her powers so heightened by fear, that she floats over the battle-scarred landscape. "Stay right there or you're lover dies quicker."

"Em..ma…run…" Killian pants, but his head drops and she can tells his strength to fight is fading fast.

"Let him go," she demands, staring down the evil imp who stole her from her parents and imprisoned her for 24 years, using her as his own personal plaything all to gain power and control. She is done playing his games.

"I don't think you want me to do that, dearie. It'll only kill him quicker. But I may have a way to delay his death, if you're willing to make a deal."

She stills, watching him like a hawk watches a mouse. "What do you want?"

"Come back with me, One. Work for me. Now your lover here has dispatched Cora for me, we can steer the course for the rest of the world, just the two of us."

She looks at Killian, sees and feels the life draining from him. Hears the lie in Gold's words. Hears Killian's plea echoing in her own head as he breathes his last.

"Don't do it, Emma. Let me go. Run. Save our boy."

Tears stream down her face, but how can she not honor his request. "No," she says. "I will never work for you. And my name is Emma, not One."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. So naive." He giggles and she feels her blood run cold at the sound. "Did I say deal? I must have misspoke. I wasn't actually giving you a choice." He pushes Killian off his blade with his foot, as Killian's pained cries rend her heart in two. "You and that child are mine."

"Never!" She screams willing her powers to throw him into the air. He remains solidly on the ground.

"That won't work on me, dearie. Don't you think I'd find a way to protect myself?" He hold up his hand, and she sees some sort of strange cuff on his wrists that must somehow block her psychic energy from harming him. It doesn't matter. She'll have to take him out another way. She runs forward to tackle him, and that's when a shot rings out.

Gold stares at her, a confused look in his eyes that must mirror her own. She looks down, but can tell she's unharmed. Gold, on the other hand, is bleeding from a small, smoking hole right in the center of his chest. He turns, at the same time as her, to see Killian dropping the gun he had fired to the ground right before he, too collapses.

Emma runs to him, no longer caring about Gold's fate. Killian is unresponsive by the time she reaches him. Picking up his head, she cradles his body to her protruding stomach, crying and begging him not to leave her, to leave them. But he doesn't awaken.

"I love you, Killian," she sobs, the heartbeat she has so steadily felt for four years growing impossibly faint. "Forever and always." She kisses him, one last time.

But he is already gone.

A deep, horrible grief wells up from the pit of her soul as she begins to shake his body, as if he would somehow wake up. "I…I can't do this alone! I can't do this without you! Killian!"

She hears him, then, in her mind and clear as day. "Yes you can, my strong, brave lass. You are going to be such a wonderful mother." She looks up, and through her tears, she can see the faint glow of his spirit standing just next to her.

"No. Not without you." She cries, wishing so bad that she could reach out and let him take her in his arms one last time. "I can't—"

As if reading her thoughts, he smiles at her, crouching low so that they can be at eye level, even if they cannot touch. "Yes you can, Swan. You can. But you have to let me go." He dips even closer and she can see the tears on his own cheeks that mirror hers, can see how hard it is to leave, but knowing this is the only way. "You're free now, love. You and our boy. No one is hunting you. You can see the world, just as you've always wanted."

She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes tight against the thought of a future without him. "I've already seen it, Killian. And it won't be the same with you not here."

Suddenly, she senses a warmth on her cheek and her eyes fly open. He's there, thumbing her chin and running his hand through her hair, just like he loved to do before. His touch sparks a memory of the first time she felt sunlight on her skin and her tears start afresh. "Show our son, then, Emma. Show him the world. Show him all the love that I couldn't."

Her heart is breaking, but she can knows how important it is to him, so she replies with, "Okay," even though she knows it will be a long time before she can honor that promise.

"That's all I wish, love, for you to live and be happy," he says, backing away slightly, as if hearing a call that she can't even with all her powers. There's a deep, regretful sadness in his eyes, though, as he looks at their unborn child and her aches anew for how he'll never know his child and their son will never know him.

Needing to know he is happy, she says the only thing she can to ease his pain. "I'll tell our son every day about his father, the hero. He'll know you, Killian. He'll know."

His smile is breathtaking, or maybe it's just the light shining through his skin. "It's time, love."

He glows brighter and she clings harder to his body, as if it would anchor him here just a little longer. "I don't know how to say goodbye," she confesses.

His smile turns sad, but no less brilliant. "Then don't." He leans in, desperate to hold her even as he fades away.

"I love you," she cries, nuzzling into his glowing hand.

"I love you, too, Emma," he says, and the light surrounding him grows so bright she can't look. Instead she burrows into his empty body and sobs her heartbreak into his skin.

But the light still lingers, and her whole body feels strangely electric, something like it did when the first time they kissed. Yet, her pain is so great, she can't bring herself out of her grief to care what is happening around her.

She feels the babe in her belly kick once, then twice, and she finally looks up. The sky has turned a vibrant shade of pink and purple and it steals her breath for a moment, the beauty overwhelming her grief for one blissful second. But her eyes are drawn down to the limp body she holds tight in her arms, and the pain returns. Only now, it has lessened slightly, and she smiles sadly as she sweeps his long hair off his forehead and out of his eyes, trying to memorize his features one last time.

Suddenly, he moans and shifts and she shakes so hard she nearly drops him.

"Em…ma?" He asks, his blue eyes finding her as they blink in failing light.

"Killian?" She asks, wondering how on earth he is sitting there talking to her. She looks down at his chest. The wound from Gold's rapier has disappeared and she reaches out with a trembling hand to make sure this isn't some kind of wondrous dream.

He looks down, too and sees the place where his wound had been, where her fingers ghost over the thin scar. He sits up, running his hand over the area. "What happened?"

"I don't know. I—Oh!" She cries out suddenly, as a spasm of pain shoots through her.

"Emma, what's wrong?"

There's another pain, sharp and quick. Her hands wrap around her stomach. "I think it's the baby."

He stands up so fast, she can't believe he was literally dead in her arms just minutes ago. Pulling her gently to her feet, he finally looks around at the destruction surrounding them until he spots a jeep that looks untouched. "Come on, Swan. Let's get you to a hospital."

She nods, following after, stopping only twice when she feels new contractions hit. As he drives her like a demon, she stares at him, marveling once more over the fact that he is here, that he's alive somehow.

And by the time they reach the hospital, she hugs her stomach a little tighter, starting to believe she might know the reason why.

…..

Two hours later, she's gazing into the clear blue eyes of her baby boy, Killian's arms wrapped around them both.

"He's so beautiful, Emma."

She looks at the dark curls that are Killian's and the dimpled chin that is hers, and feels overcome with emotion she didn't even know existed before this moment. "I know."

"Hey, there, little love. Welcome to the world," he says, as the boy's tiny hand wraps around his finger and Killian chuckles in response. "That's a fine grip you've got, there, Henry."

Emma watches her son and her love until tears spring up in her eyes. "Killian," she says quietly, never taking her eyes off her boy. "I think it was Henry who saved you. I don't think he wanted you to go any more than I did."

Between labor and meeting his new son, his resurrection hasn't been high on his list of priorities, but now that she's brought it up, he can't help but wonder at it. He knows she's right, she always is, but the implications behind it are too much, so he merely nods, and says, "Then I suppose gratitude is in order, little love. I guess your mother and I will have to find some way to make it up to you."

She giggles, and swats his arm. "You're going to spoil him rotten, aren't you?"

"If you'll let me, I hope to spoil the both of you, my love," he says, kissing her cheek and then his son's. "For a very long time to come."

Their boy grabs at his finger again, then takes hers and suddenly the whole room is filled with a soft pink light and feeling like the warmth of daybreak. Killian looks up at her in awe and she does the same to him. "He's bloody amazing," he whispers. "Just like his mum."

"And his dad," she adds quietly, the feeling of peace and safety coming from their child washing away the grime of a life time of loneliness and cruelty.

Like finally coming home.


End file.
